


5 Times Daisuke Dragged Ken Around the World to Eat Ramen + 1 Time Ken Realized It Was a Date

by Anatui



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure Last Evolution Kizuna - Fandom, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon Related, Clueless Ichijouji Ken, Declarations Of Love, Developing Relationship, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Digital Gates, First Dates, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Playing Footsie, Smitten Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:21:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22866256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anatui/pseuds/Anatui
Summary: Daisuke scooted closer and poked him in the side. "Keeen, what are you thinking about?"He jolted back to reality."Because you don't look very happy right now, and this is supposed to be fun." Daisuke flashed him a grin. "I mean, if you're not enjoying this, why are we doing it?"Ken sighed and laid his arm atop the counter till their forearms sat side by side, skin to skin. "I'm sorry I'm distracted." He hesitated, but this was Daisuke and he deserved his honesty above all else. "I didn't realize you were intending to move to America, and I…""Hey." Daisuke caught his attention, the determined look in his eyes deadly serious. "I won't go anywhere you can't follow."ORKen is a little slow on the uptake.
Relationships: Ichijouji Ken/Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya
Comments: 12
Kudos: 61
Collections: Ana's 2020 Writing Challenge, Daiken Discord Server





	5 Times Daisuke Dragged Ken Around the World to Eat Ramen + 1 Time Ken Realized It Was a Date

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, the first scene in here is very loosely based off a scene in Last Evolution Kizuna. It's not technically spoilers since it's vastly different. For one, Iori and their Digimon aren't in this scene, and for two, it has absolutely nothing to do with the plot of the movie. But I wanted to let you know ahead of time. :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy these adorable idiots being adorable and, you know, idiotic.

**1  
New York**

Ken examined the ramen in the bowl, a curious frown twisting his mouth downward. "Really, Daisuke, I don't understand why we have to travel all the way to New York for a bowl of ramen." But he took a big bite of noodles—it tasted the same as the ramen in Tokyo too, right down to the narutomaki.

His best friend rolled his eyes and snatched up a gyoza with his chopsticks. "I told you, I want to see the competition."

This only caused Ken's frown to deepen. "You want to open a shop here?" His words fell much softer from his lips than everything beforehand.

"Yeah," Daisuke said, excitement lacing his voice. "Wouldn't that be cool?"

Ken bit his lip.

Yes, he supposed, it would be rather _cool_. But it would also mean his best friend would live in America, and Ken wouldn't—couldn't—follow him all the way around the world, as much as he might want to. He had a life in Japan, a degree he was pursuing and family to take care of as they aged. He couldn't up and leave without a second thought. Not the way Daisuke could.

"Of course," Daisuke continued, too engrossed in his food to pay attention to Ken's sudden mood change, "I want to open a shop everywhere. Spread the love, so to speak."

The irritation in his gut told Ken he didn't care for the idea of Daisuke spreading his love too thin.

Or at all really.

Instead of speaking, Ken hummed as he took another bite of food and tried not to let it bother him too much, though he certainly wasn't successful.

But then, Daisuke scooted closer and poked him in the side. "Keeen, what are you thinking about?"

He jolted back to reality.

"Because you don't look very happy right now, and this is supposed to be fun." Daisuke flashed him a grin. "I mean, if you're not enjoying this, why are we doing it?"

Ken sighed and laid his arm atop the counter till their forearms sat side by side, skin to skin. "I'm sorry I'm distracted." He hesitated, but this was Daisuke and he deserved his honesty above all else. "I didn't realize you were intending to move to America, and I…"

"Hey." Daisuke caught his attention, the determined look in his eyes deadly serious. "I won't go anywhere you can't follow." And when he smiled again, it was softer, kinder. "Besides, I'm usually the one catching up to you."

"But your dreams…"

He scoffed and leaned close, pressing their sides together, to jab Ken on the nose. "They don't mean anything if we can't be together."

Ken swallowed and nodded slowly. "All right."

"Besides," Daisuke continued, regaining his usual vigor, "I said I want ramen shops all over the world. You really think I can be there to run all of them?" He released a sharp laugh. "No, Ichijouji, you're stuck with me."

"Good." Ken flashed him a smile before returning his attention to his food. "I wouldn't want it any other way."

**2  
Hong Kong**

The restaurant was small and looked grungy from the outside, but the interior was decidedly nicer than Ken initially anticipated when he followed Daisuke through the front door. Even in the middle of the afternoon, the restaurant was packed and had a short queue.

Daisuke leaned back to whisper in his ear—not that Daisuke had any concept of what _whisper_ meant. "Apparently, this place always has customers coming out of their ears. It has to be good."

A soft, amused smile spread across his lips. "Then what shall we get?"

His best friend flashed him a grin. "I'm not even going to look at the menu."

Ken cocked an eyebrow. "You can't read Mandarin, can you?"

"Nope." But that didn't stop his ridiculous grin. "Besides, I want to taste the chef's recommendation."

He nodded in understanding.

Chefs typically recommended their top seller or their personal favorite dish—or give the option of either. To be fair, if Daisuke were given an option, he'd probably just say yes to both and manage to eat it all himself.

Ken, though, had a working knowledge of Mandarin—enough to get them there and order their food at least—and scanned what little he could understand of the menu.

After ordering, they managed to snag a two-top in the back of the restaurant. The space was tight, and their knees brushed under the small table, making Daisuke chuckle and slot their legs together.

Daisuke tapped his sandaled foot over the toe of Ken's brogue Oxford shoes, not bothering to repress a grin when Ken sent him an irritated glare. Of course, the irritation didn't last; Ken quickly retaliated with a calculated nudge that knocked the sandal off the offending foot, much to Daisuke's chagrin.

"How rude," he snapped and stuck out his tongue.

Ken flashed him a smug smile. "You're one to talk. You're going to get my shoes dirty."

Daisuke huffed. "Ken, shoes are _supposed_ to get dirty. Otherwise, there'd be no reason to wear them." Under the table, he slipped his sandal back on and gave Ken a quick jab in the shin before settling his foot between those two Oxford shoes. "Honestly, what's the point of shoes that are only meant to look nice?"

With a fond smile, Ken shook his head. "You literally just said the point is for them to look nice, Daisuke."

"Well, that's a stupid reason to wear shoes."

When the food arrived a moment later, Ken quietly inspected his ramen before taking a tentative bite—but on the other side of the table, Daisuke dove into the meal without so much as a glance at the bowl. He relied on his taste first when it came to food, and he would consider the individual ingredients after judging how the flavors worked together.

Ken smiled at his enthusiasm before settling in his seat more comfortably and finally taking a bite.

Halfway through his meal, Daisuke finally slowed enough to inspect the different aspects in his dish. He nudged noodles and vegetables and slices of meat around his bowl, plucked them up with the chopsticks to examine them and taste them, then started eating the whole dish as one again, this time at a much slower pace.

Ken struggled to keep his laughter to himself until there was nothing to do but bury his face in the crook of his elbow and clamp his eyes shut.

"Hey, what are you laughing at, Ichijouji?"

He shook his head and tried to say, "Nothing, nothing," but speaking while laughing was a feat Ken had yet to master.

Then, warm toes nudged the pant leg of his dark gray slacks up, sliding along the smooth skin of his calf slowly.

Ken's laughter faltered and faded, and a deep flush rose to his cheeks as he finally looked up to meet Daisuke's eyes. "What are you doing?"

But Daisuke had wide, guilty eyes—and one of Ken's shrimp in his mouth, plus a second held by his chopsticks.

"Thief!"

And Ken wasn't about to let him get away with it.

He trapped Daisuke's foot between his long legs and sat up enough to get his mouth around the chopsticks and suck the shrimp free.

Daisuke might have managed to prevent him had he been able to do anything but stare, eyes dilated, lips parted, cheeks tinged pink. "Well, if I knew…" he began, voice hoarse, and he paused to clear his throat. "If I knew you wanted it _that_ badly…"

"You'd have what?"

Below, Ken's legs loosened now that the foot between them was no longer the enemy, and with its newfound freedom, it traced a soft caress over the pant leg up to his knee and down again.

Instead of answering, Daisuke went back to his food, pointedly ignoring the blush still speckling his tawny cheeks.

Ken, too, thought it best to ignore it.

**3  
Bangkok**

They didn't eat tsukemen often, but the ramen was nice like that on a hot day. Besides, Daisuke wanted to experience all different kinds of ramen, not just his favorites—although, there were some days Ken was sure _every_ kind of ramen was Daisuke's favorite.

The food was brought to their booth in multiple dishes, the noodles separate from the broth, and Daisuke took full control of the hot plate to heat his thick broth. He was always so impatient, but Ken didn't mind waiting.

Besides, needing to heat the broth gave them more time to talk.

"You want to open a restaurant here too?" Ken asked, a curious lilt to his voice.

Daisuke glanced up. "Sure, why not?"

He let out a soft laugh in amusement. "Please tell me you're developing a business plan because this is starting to sound ridiculous."

His best friend shot him a scowl, but it was quickly replaced by his enormous grin. "Only starting to?"

Ken scoffed.

Then, slowly, Daisuke's face mellowed into a pensive frown. "Between classes and training with Yamatoya-san, I don't have time to really dig into the planning. I just know I need to learn everything I can, and that means more than taking classes and training in a ramen shop."

A soft smile graced Ken's lips, and he dropped a hand onto the tabletop, stretching with a sigh. "You're truly dedicated to this, Daisuke," he said in a hushed tone. "That's one of the things I love most about you."

Pink dusted his cheeks, but Daisuke dropped his hand over Ken's and squeezed his fingers. "Yeah, well…" The pink transformed into a brilliant red. "I don't think there's anything about you I _don't_ love."

Ken bit his lip, and the heat rose to his cheeks.

But then Daisuke pulled away and removed his bowl of broth from the hot plate. "Your turn."

With a short nod, Ken moved his broth to the hot plate and watched as the thick liquid slowly started to bubble and steam. He shifted slightly, strangely impatient, and set his hand down where it was before, palm up. He could only hope Daisuke saw the invitation.

Daisuke, though, was too busy combining the broth with his noodles and other ingredients to notice the welcoming gesture.

He tried not to frown, tried not to take it personally, but it stung all the same. 

Still, he kept his hand there even after his broth was hot enough. He kept his hand there as they ate in companionable silence. And he kept his hand there as Daisuke leaned back and tipped the remainder of his broth into his awaiting mouth.

Ken ate more slowly, carefully, and he focused on it so much he nearly jumped out of his skin when Daisuke's warm fingers closed around his again.

His gaze darted up, their eyes met over the table, and Daisuke smiled at him, cheeks still a warm rosy pink.

Ken threaded their fingers together in an affectionate embrace and gave a reassuring squeeze. "So what have you learned from this experience?" he asked, nodding toward Daisuke's empty bowl.

Across from him, Daisuke chuckled, and his hand tightened, as if soaking up every centimeter of contact. "The Thai seasoning…" he began.

Ken smiled as he finished his ramen and listened to his best friend break down the different aspects of their meal, dismantling and analyzing with a stroke of precision he rarely demonstrated, their hands still entwined. Ken could listen to him talk for hours.

**4  
Melbourne**

The ramen bar Daisuke took him to in Australia is open twenty-four hours, which Daisuke thought was amazing—so amazing he dragged Ken out of bed at four in the morning.

Ken slumped into the booth with a low grumble and laid his head on his arms atop the table. He had no intention to stay awake for this, no matter how excitable his best friend was about this newfound ramen shop.

Daisuke let him be, though, and ordered food for both of them, and when he returned to their table, he scooted close to Ken and ran a hand over his shoulders. "You're being a spoilsport," he said, even as he massaged smooth circles across Ken's shoulder blades.

His only reaction was to grunt against the table.

"You'll feel better once you taste the food," Daisuke promised. "This is one of the best ramen restaurants in Melbourne, you know."

He grunted again.

Because no, Ken didn't know. Why would he? And why would a perfectly nice restaurant be open at four in the morning? Didn't the owner want to sleep? Didn't he want his customers to sleep?

Ken _really_ wanted to sleep.

Why wouldn't Daisuke let him sleep?

"You're way too tense," Daisuke murmured, suddenly closer to his ear than before. He abandoned the shoulders in favor of running his fingers through Ken's silky hair and dragging his fingers across his scalp. "You need to relax, Ken."

Slowly—very slowly—he was relaxing.

Daisuke's massages spread warmth through his body, and he allowed himself to succumb to those unskilled fingers. The ministrations left him subdued, pacified, content, and he let out a pleased moan.

The hand immediately stopped.

Paused.

Then continued.

Only to be interrupted when their food arrived.

Ken raised his head with a deep glare at the bowl sitting in front of him. This wasn't a normal time to eat, dammit. He had no interest in stuffing himself at four in the morning.

But beside him, Daisuke smiled and dug right into his food, completely unfazed by the fact that they should've been sleeping.

After a long huff, Ken pushed up enough to taste his food.

Okay, even he had to admit it tasted damn good. But it also would've tasted better at a reasonable time of day.

He picked at the food for a while, but once Daisuke finished his, he collapsed into a heap on his friend's shoulder.

Daisuke, of course, took it in stride.

He wrapped an arm around him for better support and smothered his laughter in Ken's hair. "You're cute when you're half asleep," he said, burrowing his nose into the black locks. "Although, really, you're cute all the time."

Ken didn't have the mental capacity to argue; instead, he heaved a sigh and relaxed fully in Daisuke's embrace.

They decided to take Ken's ramen to go, though Daisuke insisted it wouldn't be nearly as good even five hours later. But Ken just wanted to go back to bed.

**5  
San Francisco**

The California fog was nearly overwhelming when Daisuke took him to a dark-lit izakaya, but they slid into a booth in the bar with a couple bowls of chicken karaage ramen.

Ken typically preferred not to have his meats deep-fried, but he was intrigued all the same, especially once he inspected the dish. The ramen had a deep brown broth along with carrots, corn, green onion, bamboo shoots, and a soft-boiled egg, and it smelled delicious.

For once, Daisuke ate more slowly than Ken. Mostly because he spent much of his meal watching Ken enjoy the food.

"You know," Daisuke said after a long while of picking at his food, "if I ever did want to live in America, just for a little while…I'm not sure I could do it without you."

Ken paused and lifted his eyes to look at him. "I can't just up and move," he said carefully.

"It's not like it'd be random," he amended. "Once you're done with your degree. And really, it's not like I'd want to stay here." He hummed thoughtfully. "I like America fine, but it could never be my home. Not if you don't want to live here."

His gaze fell back to his bowl. "Don't let me hold you back, Daisuke. You have to think about the things that are important to you, about your future. If you want to live in America, don't let me stop you."

Daisuke laughed. "Ken, I don't want to be where you aren't." He caught Ken's eyes and flashed him a heart-warming smile, a smile that made Ken's knees go weak. "Home is wherever you are. Always."

That struck Ken to his core, and suddenly, he couldn't eat anymore.

**+1  
Bordeaux**

"I'm telling you, Miyako-san," he said into the phone. "Daisuke's been acting strange lately. Some of the things he's said…"

On the other end of the line, Miyako huffed. "I don't know what to tell you, Ken-kun. I know I don't get to see you guys that often, but he hasn't seemed weird to me when we've talked."

Ken glared at his kitchen counter.

"Obviously," she continued, "you know him better than anyone, so you should be able to tell when something is wrong. Why are you coming to me about this?"

He clamped his eyes shut and worried his bottom lip, not sure how to respond just yet.

But then the words poured out of him, completely out of his control: "Something about these ramen trips is rubbing me the wrong way." He paused for a shaky breath. "He's on his way over, and he's taking me to a ramen shop in Bordeaux. Maybe you could meet us there? I'd really like a second opinion."

Miyako laughed.

And Ken, for the life of him, couldn't fathom how anything he'd said justified such overzealous amusement.

"Oh, Ken-kun," she finally said, laughter and merriment lacing her voice, "I really wouldn't want to impose. It's just not right."

But that didn't make sense. What in the world would she be imposing on?

"Miyako-san, what are you—?"

Before he could finish the question, a fist banged loudly on his apartment door.

He sighed into the phone. "There he is. I should go."

"Yes, yes, of course," she said, still trying not to laugh. "Talk to you later, all right?"

He frowned, thoroughly unsettled by their conversation, but said a quick goodbye before answering the door.

*

The ramen shop in Bordeaux was one of the smallest of the restaurants they'd visited, but Daisuke was unbothered by the thick crowd. He dragged Ken by the hand while they waited in line, then up to the counter to order.

But Ken couldn't focus. His conversation with Miyako was still bothering him.

What in the world would she be imposing on if she joined them for a bowl of ramen in France of all places?

All he and Daisuke ever did was eat and talk during these trips.

Sure, the things they talked about were typically spoken in hushed tones. The conversation subjects had a wide range, yes, but the pair easily veered into more intimate territory, discussing things they never spoke about with anyone else.

And okay, maybe they did more than eat and talk if the amount of touching meant anything. Between playing with each other's feet and giving a massage and gently caressing each other's hair…well, perhaps someone might find it uncomfortable how comfortable they were with each other.

But they'd been best friends for years. A certain level of intimacy was bound to happen—it was expected even.

"Let's find a table." Daisuke flashed him a grin and led the way toward one of two open tables—only recently vacated based on the dirty dishes still sprawled across the tabletop.

There was also the hand-holding.

Ken wasn't sure when that had started, but it was significant.

Actually, he realized as he settled into a seat despite the mess atop their chosen table, the amount of touching overall was oddly significant.

Even after they sat down, Daisuke kept his hand in his warm grip and entwined their fingers.

That was _definitely_ significant.

"What are you thinking about?" Daisuke asked, giving a gentle tug on the arm. "You're not even eating. Something bothering you?"

And yet Daisuke treated it like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Ken's mind jolted back to the last time Daisuke had said those words, and his eyes fluttered shut. "Did you really mean what you said?"

"Huh?"

A staff member, all apologies, hurried over to take away the dishes and wipe down the table, and soon, the dirty dishes were replaced with steaming bowls of ramen.

But neither of them ate.

"When we ate at the ramen shop in New York," he said after a moment, trying to keep his voice steady, "you said your dreams didn't matter if we're not together. Is that…I mean, do you still think that?"

Daisuke squeezed his hand. "Of course I do."

His eyes darted to their conjoined hands atop the table, just like last time. "But what if I…?"

The fingers in his tensed. "What if you what?" There was an uncomfortable edge to his best friend's voice.

"I feel like that too," he said slowly. "But what if I want _more_?"

Daisuke frowned. "What do you mean? What more could there be? I mean, we're already…"

He sighed and finally met his eyes. "Daisuke, when we go to these restaurants, when we hug and cuddle, and when we hold hands like this, I want it to _mean_ something."

"What more could it mean?" Daisuke shook his head, brow furrowed. "It already means everything."

Ken frowned.

He wasn't getting it, and somehow, he had to get Daisuke to understand.

"Of course it already means something," he said, "but I want it to mean more. I want it to mean something, you know, _romantic_."

Daisuke cocked his head. "Ken, we've been together for months. Honestly, I'm really not sure what you mean."

Ken struggled to swallow. "Together?"

What the hell did that mean?

They'd been together for far longer than a few months. They'd been best friends for years upon years.

Daisuke nodded. "That's generally what it's called when you go on dates and hold hands, yeah. Most people consider that pretty romantic, but I guess I can be more romantic."

Wait.

"What?"

Now Daisuke looked even more confused than before. "What _what_?"

"Dates?"

Ken could barely breathe.

He nodded. "Dates."

"Like, in a relationship?"

Daisuke tapped his thumb against his chin, lips pursed, eyes off in the distance. "If you're ready to put a proper label on it, yeah. I've just been kind of playing it by ear, trying to make sure you're comfortable."

Ken took a moment, then wetted his lips before venturing to speak again. "So this whole time you've been dragging me around the world to eat ramen, you've been taking me out on dates?"

"Yeah," he said with an irritated frown.

Then, all at once, Ken started to laugh. And once he started, he couldn't stop.

It was ridiculous, of course. Ridiculous that he hadn't put two and two together. Ridiculous he hadn't noticed the changes, subtle though they may have been. Ridiculous that he hadn't realized how very much he wanted these ramen trips to be dates.

Daisuke glared at him and started to pull away his hand, but Ken held tight.

"Dear god, Daisuke," he said, shaking his head, still struggling not to laugh. "If that's the case, why in the world haven't you kissed me yet?"

Really, though, that was easily remedied, and Ken didn't bother wasting time waiting for Daisuke to realize that before he pushed up far enough to press his mouth against his best friend's over the table.


End file.
